Sot
by AidanPadfoot
Summary: How did he ever end up in this situation? He couldn't possibly remember. Not for the life of him. The Elven Swede couldn't really think, even. Only feel. Hear. See.


How did he ever end up in this situation? He couldn't possibly remember. Not for the life of him. The Elven Swede couldn't really think, even. Only feel. Hear. _See_.

He felt the warmth of the sunshine on his bare back, arms, neck. The grass against his legs, from his feet to his knees. The little droplets of water landing on his bare, burning skin as the wind blew his long, blond locks back. He felt calm despite his heart racing in such a special moment.

He heard the trees moving with the mild winds. The sound of birds singing to him within those trees. The sound of the little waterfall near the lake splashing softly, connecting it to the ocean. The sounds of soft moans and pants. Those sounds made it so much _better_ than he'd ever imagined.

He _saw_, however... Everything. As he took a mere second to look up, his surroundings were so... Normal to him, yet it was so perfect for the moment. The leaves of trees moving in the warm summer breeze. The waterfall nearby splashing the little droplets onto him, _them_. The birds and little animals he could occasionally see.

But as he looked down, he found he didn't want to look up again. _Ever_ again. Because it was the best thing he'd ever seen. The chocolate brown hair once in a long braid behind him and a little braid near his ear now messy as can be, braids ruined. He'd have to fix it later. Those ice blue eyes lidded as they stared up at the blond, into his own sky blue. The tan skin, soft to the touch and bare, and _god_, those _abs_. How on _earth_ did the boy manage to get so strong if he hardly ever left the waters of the lake?

Slowing his movements to a stop for a moment, he moved his hand down to gently caress the other's cheek, watching those once cold, ice eyes now warm close as he leaned into his hand. He didn't know how to explain the feelings stirring in his chest again as he watched him with lidded eyes. His thumb stroked over the soft skin of his cheek, over the little blue tattoo's he had just under his eyes, feeling the stubble along his jaw.

Suddenly, he moved his hand to the other's hair and gripped it tight, pulling him into an _insatiable _kiss and swallowing the moan that came with it, reveling in the feeling of fingers gripping his bare hips so tightly. In all his years of handling women, and even the occasional man, all the names he couldn't recall, faces he didn't bother memorizing, he'd never thought _this_ could be just that enjoyable.

As he moaned into the kiss, rocking on the younger's lap again, his feelings suddenly came to mind. The first thought he had so clear since they began. Those feelings got so... What was the word... Serious? No, not the right word... But true all the same. It began with a crush. The second he laid eyes on the Siren.

But then, it got 'worse'. He couldn't stop thinking about him. Then he couldn't stop _talking_ about him. Then all he could think about was what it would be like to have a Siren, how it would be with those odd gills on his neck. He _yearned_ to have the boy close to him. Suddenly he couldn't stand the thought of anyone being anywhere near him if the Swede wasn't around.

After all, he was hired to _kill_ the poor kid, but then he got to know him and...

_Fuck_! He was in deep, too deep, and you know what?

He was drowning.

His heart began racing as he thought about the Norwegian Siren, he felt so... Happy around him. It was quite a change from the usual bitter feeling that never went away, but... He liked it.

And suddenly, just so suddenly he was saying those three words. He let it slip, babbling to the boy over this or that while under his musical spell, that wonderful, honeyed, sing-song voice of his, those icy eyes shining with his joy as he heard those words breathed in his own accented, low voice; 'Jag älskar dig'.

He abruptly got pulled back to the real world with a loud yell, his voice resonating throughout the forest, his muscles tensing as his eyes shut tightly, throwing his head back.

Then the Norwegian holding him on his chest, petting through his hair as he gasped for breath. He felt more relaxed than he had in weeks, _months_ even.

But there was no doubt about it now. The promiscuous Elf Skwisgaar deeply _loved_ sweet little Siren Toki. Nothing could change that, they both knew it as their gazes locked, pure bliss written all over their faces to match the sweet smiles.

Then he closed his eyes and just rested his head on Toki's slowly rising and falling chest, their fingers entwining as a strong arm wrapped around his waist, holding their sweat soaked bodies together. They could clean up later, Skwisgaar knew he'd be pretty sore though. Maybe he'd just make Toki do it.

And before the Swede fell asleep, he looked up lazily at Toki, eyes lidded and he uttered three simple words before his eyes slid closed and he fell asleep, nearly missing the joy that crossed the boy's sleepy face in response.

"Jeg elsker deg..."


End file.
